Developing Love
by HowDoYouDoop
Summary: "From up the street she watches them through her lens without a word. The blond and the raven, there on the road."


_**Birthday mini-ficlet for my Izaya! **(posted a little early because I won't be near a computer when the time comes) It's simple and short but meh. I love the tiny little moments. Although I think the idea is cuter than the way I wrote it… _

_Anyway,_

_Izaya! My sister from another mister, the yin to my yang, my partner in crime, the only thing keeping me in school! I really am quite fond of you xD__ And I wrote this tiny, mini thing because you like photography and I like stalking and we both like Sasuke and Naruto and drabbles. :'D _

_"Happy birthday. Thank you for being born."_  
>(Taiyou no Sumika - 10Rankai)<p>

_You are loved._

* * *

><p><strong>Developing Love<strong>

**.**

**.**

The street photographer shoots them still in the hustle and bustle under the summer blue sky, clear and distinct. They stand together with their backs half to her at where the road splits left and right. The street before them is lined with wide mouthed fish flags and stalls selling mochi and chimaki.

Children's day.

_Click. _A shot for lighting. The blurred figure of a child in yukata is stepping before the couple.

Before the camera the shorter of the two, caramel skin and blond messy tresses, is quietly motionless while the other shifts his weight.

From up the street she watches them through her lens without a word. The blond and the raven, there on the road. The whole world is moving but they are still.

The raven dressed in polite navy, all pale skin, delicate features and long, slender figure is watching his blond companion. His face is almost expressionless but the longer the photographer watches, the more she sees; the faint lines of emotion around his mouth, the tiny pull between his eyebrows. He blinks. His eyelashes are long. He shifts his weight again, turning a little to the blond who doesn't seem to notice.

Said blonde's brilliant blue eyes are moving slowly along the displays. His long fingers are clenched in tight fists, mouth pulled out at the edges. The photographer notes the slight rise of his shoulders and the tension in the space between them.

_Click. _She captures the profile of the shorter boy, clad in pushy orange. Documenting his unease.

_Click._ She snaps the raven. He's still watching the blond and the photographer now recognizes the clear concern on his face; in his pressed lips, his slightly clenched jaw.

She waits a moment while a group of people pass before the two, blocking her shot.

When they've passed she finds them facing each other, the sunny skinned man watching the other watch him, head tilted slightly to meet with his dark eyes.

In a sooth movement the raven reaches for the belt loop of the other man's pants and slips his fingers through. The blond doesn't move but the dark haired man takes the tiniest of steps forward to bring them close.

_Click. _She shoots them silently standing. Belt loops and a soft sunlight glow.

In the hustle and bustle no one but the street photographer sees them press together at the hips. No one sees the smaller of the two lower his chin to hide his pained expression. No one sees the raven's free hand take purchase on a strangely scarred cheek. Lifting the other's head, bringing his gaze upward.

With a quirk of his mouth- half a snarky smirk, he orders those strange whiskers that mark the blond's face.

'_Rise, rise, rise. Each of you two sets of three. Curve and bloom. It's alright; I'm here watching you, seeing you, knowing that child's spirit. Smile for me now.' _

A small smile under crinkled, hurt eyebrows flourishes quickly into a grin and then a laugh. Arms slung loosely around the pale man's waist and the bend of toes as the shorter lifts himself to see eye to eye. The position looks slightly awkward, like the blonde's arms should come to circle the raven's neck, but they exist together comfortably, the places where they press together becoming one.

The photographer holds her breath, steadying her hands.

They don't kiss, don't eskimo noses. The blond just closes his eyes into a sassy smile, muttering something to the other who closes his eyes too and lets out a soft chuckle, knocking their foreheads together gently just once.

They stand level with each other. The raven with fingers hooked into belt loops and leaning back just so to carry the weight of the tip-toed blond leaning against him. They're beautiful.

_Click._


End file.
